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boxofbonesfic · 1 year

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Title: Tonality [3]

Pairing: Prince!Geralt x Princess!Reader

previous chapter

Summary: “The white wolf wants you. He’ll have no other.” As you grieve the loss of your father, your mother marries the king. Whilst you struggle to acclimate to your new life, you begin to suspect the interest your new brother has in you is less than familial.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Fantasy, Darkfic, Step-cest, Medieval/GoT inspired AU, (Future)Smut, Dubcon/Noncon, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: more creepy dream fuel, Geralt being slimy and having ulterior motives, and a little more tension with reader and her mother. all in all, i think you guys will enjoy this latest addition. as always, please mind the warnings, and enjoy!😊🥰 divider by @firefly-graphics

The doe’s coat is as yellow as spun gold, and she blinks at you nervously as you approach. You cannot hide your childish squeal of delight, though it vexes her further. She nickers, shifting from hoof to hoof as she blinks at you with wide eyes.

“Papa, is she really mine?” You ask, your quiet voice heavy with awe. “She’s beautiful.” You hold out a hand, and her nostrils flare at your scent. Her long ears flick back, laying flat against her head behind her horns. They’re small—she’s young, barely a year old, perhaps less—and still covered with soft, velvety baby fur that you know will shed as she ages.

“Careful,” your father’s voice is ripe with caution. “She is new. Young, still, and a bit unwieldy.” You cluck your tongue at her, producing the sugar cubes you’d stolen from your mother’s tea tray from the sleeves of your dress. “I said careful—!” The doe leans forward, pressing her muzzle into your outstretched hand. You raise an eyebrow at your father, who shakes his head, a disbelieving laugh puffing out from between his lips. You stroke her head, running your fingers gently between her antlers and softly flicking ears.

“She about took Gaspard’s hand off this morning, she was so wild,” he says, shaking his head. “And yet she eats from your own as if you had weaned her yourself.”

“Did Gaspard try sugar?” You ask, giggling as her lips tickle your palm. “Perhaps she mightn’t have tried to amputate his fingers had he kept some of his salt to himself.” The wind shifts, and beneath the doe’s thick animal scent, there is something else.

Something like sulphur and rotting meat.

Your hand passes down the doe’s head, and her skin sloughs off beneath your fingers, leaving shiny, white bone behind. You gag, clapping a bloody hand over your mouth as fat flies buzz lazily out of her empty eye sockets. Wrong. This is wrong, it doesn’t happen like this—

How does it go, again?

Your father gifts you the doe, the golden doe, you are eighteen, you are a woman now, you will ride with him on the hunt, you will—

“Su—gar swe—et,” Your father’s voice is the buzzing of a thousand glistening black flies, his tongue is made from them, wriggling in his wide open mouth. His eyes are children’s scribbles, black and writhing, and tears like ink drip from their corners. “It tasted like sugar—”

It is then that you remember your father is dead.

He is dead. He is dead here, because he is dead everywhere, dead and rotting and gone but not gone and you mustn’t listen, you mustn’t—

You wake with a sharp gasp.

“—Princess?” The words dissolve into a static, meaningless drone as you are thrust suddenly back into consciousness. For a moment, the dream is still overlaid over the waking world like runny watercolor as you blink groggily in the dark. Beneath your trembling fingers, you can still feel the doe’s soft, golden coat—and the sharp, polished bone of her skull. With a sweaty palm against the wall, you retch, doubling over as you heave.

Nothing comes up.

The air around you is stale, stagnant, and the taste of dust and decay blankets your tongue as you swallow down lungful after panicked lungful. One thing is abysmally clear to you as you dizzily rest a hand on the cold stone to keep yourself upright—

You are not in your rooms.

Where am I?

“Princess.” The voice sounds again, and your head snaps about wildly, your eyes wide as you stare into the dark. The dream is still there, sticking the fringes of your waking thoughts like tar, and for a moment there are two voices, one made of dark black honey, sickly sweet, and the other the insectile buzz of a thousand glassy wings all beating in unison—

“Wh-who goes there?” You ask, dragging the back of your hand across your quivering mouth. There is a sound like the sharp rushing of air, and all at once the room is lit with warm yellow light. You suppress a scream as your father’s withered, sunken face appears before you, his eyes like children’s scribble—you shut your eyes, closing them tightly as you whimper.

“A dream, this is a dream, a dream—” A cool, bare hand wraps about your wrist and you scream, pulling and fighting as fiercely as you can manage. “No! No! You’re dead—!” You cry, hysterical tears creeping out of the corners of your closed eyes.

“I regret to inform you, little sister, that I am very much alive.” It is not your father’s voice—not the dead—but your step-brother’s. “Despite your best attempts to dispatch me.” Slowly, you open your eyes, sniffling as you meet his gaze. He nods up at your balled fists, still trembling in his grip. You can feel the heat of him through his own loose night-shirt and your thin cotton shift, and your skin prickles as he licks his lips.

“Release me.” You say it with more confidence than you feel. For a moment, you feel your step-brother drag his thumb across your pulse point and cock his head, as though he is considering it.

“Will you strike me again, little princess?” He asks, a mocking smile curling at the corners of his mouth. You scowl. “I did not plan for a midnight brawl.” You shake your head, your cheeks flaming. Geralt stares at you for a moment, like his golden eyes see something yours do not. As you prepare to make the demand again, he frees your wrists. You clutch your hands to your chest, eyeing him warily. The torch he has lit casts the long room in dim orange light, the flames dancing in his irises, turning them molten. It is the firelight, you think, that makes him look so menacing, so…

Hungry.

You shiver, turning your gaze instead to your surroundings, squinting at the long stone hall in the flickering light. The cool, stagnant air is disturbed only by the sound of your quiet breath, which catches in your throat as your eyes widen.

“Where…are we?” You ask, though you fear you know the answer already.

The walls are lines with alcoves bearing countless candles, stuck into the melted pools of wax left by their predecessors rather than into proper candelabras. And in neat rows in front of them…

Graves. Made of the same gray stone as the castle. Highly polished and clean, they are each adorned with ornate carvings of their occupants. You stare grimly at the rows and rows of polished stone, and wonder at how you might have possibly found your way here through the dark labyrinth of the castle. You think again of the dream, and gooseflesh rises again on your skin.

”Did you bring me here?” You round on the prince, your brow furrowed. He chuckles in response, and the sound of it grates against you.

“Me? I merely followed you. In truth I had wondered why you would visit the catacombs at this hour. I thought perhaps,” his eyes narrow as a crude grin plays at the corners of his mouth. “A secret paramour, or—”

“Do not confuse me with yourself!” You snap, wrapping your arms around your body as you shiver. The prince clucks his tongue at your ire.

“Come now, don’t be cross, little sister,” Geralt purrs. “It wouldn’t have been proper to leave you wandering the hallways in your state of undress, muttering to yourself like a madwoman.” Your cheeks warm at his crude words, and you feel angry, embarrassed tears flush hotly into the space behind your eyes. You blink them back.

“I… have not walked in my sleep since I was a child,” you admit, looking down at the space between your bare feet. Geralt hums in response. Old Madge, in her half-blind wisdom had always muttered fearfully to your father about your nightly escapades.

A soul shouldn’t walk about at night, she would say, her thin, knobby fingers twisting strands of honeysuckle and dried lavender together into a long chain, one she would wind around your bed’s posts every night for a year until finally you stayed in it. A soul shouldn’t walk about at night. What’s it lookin’ for?

“I fear I…” You shake your head, swallowing your concerns—they are not for him to hear. “No matter.” For an instant, a look of disappointment crosses his face before it is gone again, leaving you to wonder if you had even seen it at all. “Thank you.” Your reluctance is palpable. “For waking me.”

“You’ve no need to thank me. Not yet.” His eyes glitter darkly. You swallow thickly, and they follow the movement, sweeping almost lazily down the line of your throat. “Let us go.” They flick back up to yours. “Unless you wish to spend the night here?” He gestures behind you, and you shiver again, shaking your head quickly.

“Please.”

You are grateful to leave the eerie silence of the royal catacombs behind you, following as closely as you dare behind the prince. His torch throws up strange shapes on the walls of the narrow, spiraling stairwell. You can feel the dream sitting at the edges of your thoughts, waiting eagerly to settle back over you like fog. You were not predisposed to bad dreams, and yet they seemed to be the only ones you have had since you arrived. You have been beset with dark thoughts, nipping at your heels like hungry dogs, no—

Wolves.

The two of you emerge from the narrow stairwell into the empty chapel, and the vast hall echoes with your entry. The sconces are dark, and the robed, painted priests nowhere to be seen. The chapel is far less intimidating at night, the sharp features of the northern gods softened by shadow. Cold moonlight filters down softly through the domed ceiling, the colors pale and muted. For a moment, the perfectly round moon is framed perfectly by the pane of red glass containing Father Wolf, shining bright crimson above his head as you pass beneath it.

The choking scent of the incense is gone now, and only a trace of it remains in the still air. It is overpowered by a thick, musky animal scent that reminds you of wet fur. As the two of you cross the center of the room, Geralt hooks left, towards the wide, dark archway on the other side of the room. It gapes open like a toothless mouth, the stone floor sloping downward steeply into the dark.

You stop at the top of it, the warm air stirring the loose hair about your shoulders. Geralt turns to look back at you, raising a brow and cocking his head p as he lifts the torch higher. There is a question in the tilt of his head, unspoken on the curve of his lips.

Are you afraid?

You are. The dank, pungent animal scent washes over you again, and you shudder. It reminds you of your father’s hunting dogs.

“Come, little Doe.” His voice feels like cold fingers drawn across the back of your neck. “You need not fear the kennels this night.”

“I am not afraid.” You jut your chin out stubbornly, even as gooseflesh erupts along your arms.

“Good,” he purrs, licking his lips. “They can smell it.” Geralt descends down into the dark maw, and you reluctantly follow. Like most, you are no stranger to the rumors that leak steadily from King Vesemir’s halls; fantastical tales of furred beasts whose jaws were wide enough to swallow a horse whole. You clutch yourself, inching closer to the prince as the sloped path straightens out, opening into a massive cavern.

Geralt’s torch is little more than a pinprick of light in in the vast, unyielding dark. The warm glow only manages to dimly outline the shapes of natural stone pillars, throwing up misshapen shadows. There are still more passageways, little more than tunnels, littering the walls like pockmarks. For a moment, the light of Geralt’s torch throws a long arm across the chamber.

Reflected in it’s light are two, glowing orbs. Eyes, the size of dinner plates, their color impossible to describe. It was as if the eyes themselves were ablaze, glowing brightly, breaking the darkness. Over the rush of your own labored breath, you can make out the quiet scratch of claws on stone. It’s coming closer. The thought tightens your throat.

You are powerless, paralyzed before it like prey. Are you prey? You suppress a whimper. There is warmth at your back, and you realize belatedly that it is Geralt, so close his breath brushes the back of your neck.

“No fear, little princess. No fear.”

In less than an instant, the creature stands just beyond the ring of light cast by the prince’s torch. Faintly, you can make out the hulking shape of it; larger by far than any horse. Shaggy white fur, stained a rusty red around its muzzle, it’s ears pricked up and forward as it listens to the sound of your breath.

“Hold out your hand.” You do, lifting a trembling palm in front of you as if to stop the wolf from coming any closer. The wolf’s lip curls, exposing the wickedly sharp tip of a fang. It sniffs at your hand, and for a moment, you fear you will draw back nothing but a bloody stump. Your shock is palpable when it presses the tip of its snout against your hand, whiskers tickling your palm.

“Incredible.” The word escapes with the release of your held breath. You stroke the warm, bristly hair on its muzzle slowly, your eyes still wide with disbelief. The dire-wolf snorts, claws tapping against the stone as it turns from you. As quickly as the wolf appeared, it is gone again, disappearing back into the dark. You remain as you were for a moment more, your arm still outstretched as you watch its retreating back with terrified wonder.

“Yrsil.” Geralt’s voice drags you back to the present, and suddenly you are aware of how close he is to you, the way his warm breath ghosts against the shell of your ear. “The she-wolf. Her name is Yrsil.” You jump away from him, smoothing your hands down your shift as you eye him warily.

“Why did you bring me here?” The accusatory note in your voice appears to amuse him, further stoking your ire. “To frighten me?”

“If I wanted you fearful, I would not have needed the kennels to do it.” You clench your fists, glaring hatefully at him as he resumes his casual pace across the cavern floor. “Come, now. This is the quickest way back to the eastern wing of the castle. I would not lie to you.” You glare at him, your eyes narrowed.

“Would you not?” You reply dryly.

“I am many things, Princess.” Geralt’s voice drips into your ears like snake oil. “But liar is not one I am eager to add to the list.”

True to his word, the two of you emerge from the kennel entrance in the throne room, the hot musk of below sticking uncomfortably to your skin and hair. You half expect the prince to take his leave, now that you are back in familiar territory, but he doesn’t. He keeps pace with you all the way back to your chambers. The heavy door is still slightly ajar, no doubt from your midnight venture. The prince places the lit torch in one of the empty wall sconces before leaning expectantly against the wall, his body partially blocking the doorway.

“Excuse me.”

He slowly tilts his head, fixing you with a questioning look. “I do believe there is something you are forgetting, my Lady.” He parrots Kassandra’s tone with irritating accuracy. “I know Redania keeps to the old customs as well as they can, however here in Rivia we do require a certain level of decorum.”

You clench your fists in your nightgown. “What do you want, Geralt?” You ask, exasperated.

“A kiss should suffice, little Doe.” He purrs. His golden eyes burn the same way they did in the gardens the night of your mother’s coronation. You shake your head in disbelief as you stare at him, your lips parted.

“Y-you cannot ask this of me!” Your repudiation is a shrill squeak. “T-tis indecent, w-we cannot—!” You shake your head again. “The king will not allow—”

“I think you will find, little sister,” he reaches forward to trace the pad of his forefinger along your jaw-line, “that it matters not what the king will allow if he is not present. Do you see him?”He pushes your head to the side, forcing you to look down the hallway. “I don’t.” This is the closest Geralt has ever been to you, practically pressing you against the wall, caging you in with his massive arms. You understand now, the message relayed beneath his words—you are in no position to negotiate.

“You are my brother!” You plead, but he is unmoved.

“In name only.” He leans down, twining a lock of hair between his fingers, tugging it gently. “My father’s sham of a marriage has remarkably little to do with me.” You press yourself against the stone as he leans closer. “Come now, little Doe. Let us speak truth.” He tugs gently at the satin ribbon at the neck of your shift and it falls open.

“What you saw in the gardens intrigued you,” Geralt traces a path from your chin to your collarbone, his fingers feather-light, “did it not?”

“No!” His open amusement at your conviction is like cold water down your back.

“I saw, Sweetling,” he says lowly. “The look on your face—”

“Fine!” You shrill, tearing yourself away from him. It is not true, it cannot be—and yet, your blood rushes through your veins, a thin tendril of that same shameful longing uncurling in your belly. The dark curiosity that had driven you to peer around the hedge all those nights ago surges with sinful familiarity, even as you try to stamp it out.

You lean forward with a grimace, rolling onto the tips of your toes. The prince cups your chin, smoothing a finger along your lower lip. He is unprepared for you to turn your head sharply, your lips brushing against his stubbled cheek. It is only the quickness of your movement and Prince Geralt’s own surprise that allows your malicious compliance, and you dart away, ducking under his arm and through the slim gap in the door.

He snarls, reaching for you, but you slam the it shut, sliding the bolt into place with speed that surprises you. Your heart hammers against your chest as for a brief moment, there is silence on the other side of the door.

“Aren’t you clever,” he sneers, his voice muffled through the wood. He tries the handle before letting out a muted curse. “Open the door.” Your silence earns you a dark growl. “Open it!”

You jump back from the door, muffling the sound of your scream with the palms of your hands as Geralt throws himself against it. It shudders in its frame, and for a terrifying moment you fear it will burst open, revealing the enraged prince on the other side—but it does not.

“Open it!” You shrink against the wall as he seethes, his threats echoing in your ears. The sturdy wood holds against his assault, and when he finally stops, you can hear the sound of his labored breathing on the other side. That too, gradually fades into silence, and cautiously, you approach the door. Somehow, though you cannot see him, you know he remains there, waiting.

“You will regret this night.” There is grim promise in his words. “Little sister.” The sound of Geralt’s retreating footsteps makes your shoulders sag with relief, and you collapse against the wall, your breath labored. Though you doubt he is still there, waiting to ambush you in the hall, you do not dare open the door again until morning—

Just in case.

—

“It is a beautiful day, is it not?” Your mother flutters her fan daintily as she basks in the warm end-of-summer sun. To her right, Lady Amelia, red-faced and sweating beneath her pale face paint, forces a smile through her obvious discomfort.

“Oh yes, Highness.” She blinks as a cloudy bead of sweat slides down into her eye. “Lovely.”

You know the noblewomen fawning over your mother would much rather be inside, sheltered from the hot sun by the cold stone of the castle. It was where you would have been, if not for the summons from your mother. You had spent the majority of the past week or so in your chambers, reluctantly leaving them only when strictly necessary in your attempts to avoid the prince.

The Prince.

At the thought of him, you cast a wary glance at your surroundings, looking for the telltale gleam of his golden eyes, or the shock of his snow white hair. Thankfully, you find neither. Crossing the patch of soft, green grass toward your mother, you perch impatiently on the end of the carved stone bench as you wait for her to notice you. You make idle conversation with her ladies as you wait, twisting your fingers nervously in the fabric of your skirts while you try to parse out your request.

I want to go home.

“Ah, daughter,” she greets you, and you drop your head respectfully as she addresses you. “Come to enjoy the weather?” She gestures around her at the blooming garden. “I daresay we shall miss it soon enough.” She stretches, the jewels adorning her fingers and throat shining brilliantly in the sun.

“It is lovely,” you say, nodding agreeably. “It does remind me of home.” You curse yourself as the word slips from your lips. Instantly, your eyes fly to your mother’s face, watching for the displeasure you know you will see written in the stiffness of her smile or the narrowed slant of her eyes.

“Of Redania, you mean.” The soft curve of her lips belie the dagger sharp edges of her words. The smile you force in return is weak, trembling at the edges of your mouth.

“Y-yes. That is… what I meant to say.” You do not miss the way her ladies lean in amongst themselves, whispering. “D-did you wish to speak with me?” Though the day is unseasonably warm, and you yourself are surrounded by people, you feel small and cold and alone. Adrift.

“Must a mother need a reason to see her child?” She asks, rising gracefully from her seat. One of the servants rushes over with a parasol, but she waves him away, shaking her head. “If a reason must be given, I suppose mine might be that I have missed you.” She loops her arm through one of yours securely, steering you off the patch of cool grass and back onto the garden path proper. The whispers of her ladies follow behind you, biting at your heels they fade.

“I am your mother, and yet I cannot recall when last we broke bread together.”

“I have found myself quite exhausted, of late,” You mumble the half truth. “I fear the journey weighs heavily upon me still.” You suppress a shudder as you remember the dream, your father’s rotting face bloated with fat maggots—“I have not slept well.”

“Late night escapades do tend to be quite exhausting.” Her lips curve into a cold, knowing smile, and your belly fills with hot lead. Shame turns the blood in your veins to ice as your mother inspects her sleeve. A terrible fury rages beneath the placid surface of her pleasantries, and you cower in the face of it.

“M-mother, I—” The words will not come, leaving you floundering as your mouth opens and closes in silence. “H-he—”

“Did you think I would not see it?” She spits. Disgust drips from the words. “Would not notice his...” She pauses, her eyes narrowing as her mouth twists with displeasure. “Interest.” You swallow against the lump in your throat, knowing it matters not but still wondering who might have seen, who might have witnessed Prince Geralt raging at your door.

“Mother, I-I swear to you, I have done nothing—! H-he, I—I walked in my sleep, a-and he found me, I—nothing happened!” You hate the look on her face, like your pleas of innocence have only confirmed your guilt. “Nothing—”

“Nothing?” Her lip curls. “You must know these games you play, all they have done is pique his interest.” She speaks as though somehow, you should have known better. “Men are stupid, willful creatures, desirous of what they cannot have.” She clucks her tongue at you. “Your father coddled you far too long—you are a woman grown! It is long past time you act like it!”

“Father would believe me!” You sob. Hot, angry tears spill down your cheeks. “I am innocent!” Your mother stares at you coldly, before reaching forward to cup your chin.

“It is not your innocence I question.” Your mother’s voice is deceptively soft. “It is your sense.” You blink at her through your tears, trembling. “My sweet, naive girl.” She wipes roughly at your tears with the pad of her thumb. The cold distance in her eyes splits you cleanly down the middle like a sharp blade. There is part of you that wants to fawn, to deliver honeyed words on a platter until her love shines down on you again like the sun—

And part that wants nothing more than to flee. You want to ask—no, beg—for her to send you home, to return you to the walls you knew better than the lines on your own palms. Your mother embraces you, her lips brushing your cheek even as your own work silently. The words won’t come, like they are stuck in your throat.

“There should be only honesty between us.” Your mother says. “Understand?”

I want to go home.

Send me home.

Please.

“Yes.” You hang your head in defeat, the words retreating from your tongue.

“Good.” She chirps as she leans away. She is herself again, smiling affectionately as she brushes imaginary dirt from your dress, tucking loose strands of hair back into your fraying braid. “And you’ll tidy up for supper, won’t you? We have missed you at the table these past nights.” You clasp your hands together so tightly that your palms sting as you force a smile.

“Of course.”

For a moment, just a moment, the warm breeze carries with it the smell of rot and earth, and you remember the doe, your father’s gift dead and bloated in the patch of hexweed in the woods.

It smells like sugarcane, but it isn’t, your father had taught you young. It smells sweet, but it’s not, understand?

Perhaps, you think, as you reluctantly follow your mother’s retreating back, people can be hexweed too.

to be continued…

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

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techs-goggles9902 · 2 months

Note

Oh oh oh Imma request something 🤔🤔

How about.... female character/reader who is unsure about how she fits in with the bad batch and Tech reassures her?

Was even thinking about my oc Raven and maybe our female character/reader is unsure of her relationship with Hunter and seeks out Tech for (brotherly) assurance 🤔

You can do it however makes sense 😊 also no pressure 💖

Female reader x Tech (platonic)

Summary: You're unsure about your role in the batch and you talk with both Raven and Tech.

No warnings. Fluff and stuff

Word count: 863

a/n: Raven is the lovely oc created by @hellhound5925 ! Go check her out! Sorry Raven doesn’t have a huge role but she’s here! I hope I did her justice 🙏🏻

You sigh, bending over to pick up another piece of mantell mix.

These things are everywhere! Wrecker, I swear…

The light chatter from the cockpit reaches your ears as you discard the snack in the small trash bin in the corner of the Marauder. The squad, excluding Tech, are talking about the latest mission.

Hunter, sitting in the pilot's seat, smiles gently at Omega as she exaggerates how she hustled a man on the last mission in a game of dejarik, earning enough credits to fix the ship.

“Oh, and then I took out his Ghhhk! He said he’s a ‘Top Tier Player’ but he wasn’t! Hunter, you wouldn’t believe how he put himself in a bad position. Backed himself in a corner!” Omega rants with a grin, making big gestures with her small arms, imitating the game characters.

Wrecker gives a big, hearty laugh as she continues. Echo sits back in the co-pilot’s chair, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his pale lips. You watch as the girl keeps proudly going on and on about her victory.

You joined the Batch a few months after they began working for your employer, Cid. Ever since that day where you accompanied them for a mission, you were essentially adopted into their merry band of clones.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you sigh again. Although you’re “one of them now”, you still feel as if they have their own little circle that you’re not a part of. How long will it take for them to see me as one of their own? I’m more than capable…

“Hey, you okay? You don’t look the greatest…” A familiar voice says.

“Raven, hey. I’m fine, don’t worry about me. Just… contemplating things, I suppose.”

“K’olar,” Raven says, pulling you to the nearest bunk. Lowering yourself onto the bunk, you pick at your nails. “What’s up?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I’m… not 100% a real squad member. I’m the last addition, not romantically tied to anyone, and just… here,” you admit. Raven has been your lifeline ever since joining the Batch. Both of you are non-clones, even if she did train them, and you related to her the most.

“Vod… I… I felt that way, too, when I first came along.”

“You did?” Raven nods.

“Mmhmm. This tight knit group with a very good looking sergeant-”

“Okay, okay!” You both laugh, easing your nerves. This is why you’ve always liked Raven, she knows how to cheer you up. Always.

“Cyare, c’mere for a sec,” Hunter calls from the cockpit. Raven gets up and sighs, mouthing the words, so needy, making you giggle once more.

“Why don’t you go talk to Tech? He listens,” she suggests, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze as she walks past you.

You watch her go and you see a foot dangling from the ceiling panels. Tech…

You push yourself off the bunk and you stand beneath the opening in the ceiling and watch Tech tinker with the ship’s innards.

“Tech?”

“Hm? Oh, hello, vod’ika,” Tech replies, leaning over a little to see you better.

“You don’t need to call me that. I’m older than you are,” you say with a quiet giggle.

“Well, given the fact my brothers and I age twice as fast as the average being, I am technically older than you, vod’ika,” Tech says with the faint trace of a smile, emphasizing the nickname.

You scoff with a smile, climbing up into the ceiling with him. He’s slightly hunched over because of his height, but it doesn’t seem to bother him.

“Can I ask you something, ori’vod?” you ask, fiddling with one of his tools. Tech hums in acknowledgement.

“I’m not sure if I… If I exactly fit in with you guys. You’re all brothers and I get that but I don’t feel-”

“Vod’ika, you’ve been one of us since the moment Hunter asked you to stick around. Omega especially felt that you would make a good friend, and I agree,” Tech cuts you off, looking away from his tinkering and directly into your eyes.

“I…I’m a good friend?” You ask.

“We may not have known each other very long, but you are an adequate fighter and an even more valuable member of our squad.”

Our squad… Our squad…

“You think so? Hunter… He’s nice and all but… We haven’t really bonded I guess,” you say with a small sigh.

“Vod’ika, Hunter has to put up with Omega and Wrecker, has to find us jobs, feed us, and still sees himself as our leader, our sergeant, our protector. I’m honestly astonished he hasn’t gone gray with all the stress,” Tech remarks, that little smile tugging at his lips. That little grin is so contagious, managing to make you smile as well.

You’re about to say something else when Tech continues, “Echo will come around eventually. He’s lost brothers and he’s distancing himself to save him the pain of losing a sister. I’m sure he’ll soon realize you’re not going anywhere.”

Not going anywhere…

“I guess I’m stuck with you, huh?” You say with a smirk, nudging Tech’s elbow.

“For the long run.”

Glossary:

Cyare = beloved [sha-rey]

K’olar = come here

Vod’ika = little sibling [vohd-eeka]

Vod = sibling

Ori’vod = big sibling [ori-vohd]

Ghhhk = character in the game dejarik

Taglist: @fionajames @sevdidntdie @will-is-silly @skellymom @dangraccoon (feel free to tell me what you want or don't want to be tagged in!)

Dividers by @saradika

#star wars #sha speaks #clone troopers #the bad batch #tbb #the clone wars #tbb tech #clone trooper tech #tech x reader #tech x you #platonic #raven skirata oc by hellhound #tbb echo #tbb hunter #tbb omega

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thatwasthenightthingschanged · 10 months

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MASTERPOST: eras tour presale (German dates)

since there’s already so much information floating around & we’ll probably get new info regularly, I’ve decided to create this post which collects all information available for the presale for Taylor’s German dates (Gelsenkirchen, Hamburg & Munich). I will pin this post to my blog and update it regularly! also, if you find information that is not on this list yet, please send it to me so I can update this post!

INFORMATION FOR ALL PRESALES OF THE GERMANY SHOWS

FYI: When in doubt, check out the FAQ page of eventim for the Germany shows!

+ I don’t know enough about the other European shows to be able to give you 100% right answers (keep that in mind if you send me an ask about those shows 😊)

UPDATED: July 11th, 7pm CET (latest two updates are marked through cursive font)

REGISTRATION for the pre-sale is only possible until June 23rd at 10am Central European Time (CET) (note: the website also names 23:59 as the time when registration ends. I don’t know which time is the right one, so I’d advise you to register before 10am). To register, click here or follow the link on Taylor’s homepage. Important information regarding registration:

Make sure to register with the same email address you use for your eventim account. They‘ve stated that they will check all e-mail addresses to make sure bots don’t get access, and they do so through checking if the email address refers to a valid eventim account. If you haven’t gotten an account under the email address yet, you should be safe as long as you create an account for it until registration ends (Friday, June 23rd).

Registration does NOT guarantee you will receive a code. They will randomize who will get a code, and the rest of the people who signed up will be put on a wait list.

it does NOT matter when you’ve registered, as long as it is before the deadline ends. like I’ve said, it’s randomized.

you should receive an email from eventim. in it, you have to confirm your registration. however, it might take a while for you to receive the email (e.g. on the first day of registration some people had to wait quite a while to receive the email, as the servers were overloaded).

YOU HAVE TO REGISTER FOR PRESALE TO BE ABLE TO BUY TICKETS! one of the venues tweeted that you’ll only get to buy tickets if you’re registered for pre-sale (x). (don’t know if that means there won’t be a general sale for now)

you have to register separately for each show you want to have access to. If you for example aim for Hamburg and Gelsenkirchen, you cannot make a joint registration for them. click on “register now!” for the dates you’re interested in (see screenshot below)

you cannot register for the additional shows that were announced for Germany. The registration you’ve done before suffices. Via the company organising it: The code you’ll get for a city is valid for all the shows in one city. aka: you can pick the date you want to get tickets for, for example if you’ve gotten a code for Munich you can choose between the two dates.

eventim said that whether ticketholders of Lover Fest Berlin tickets will get a separate presale is up to the concert company organizing the concert, therefore they don’t have any information on it. I personally don’t think there will be a presale for Lover Fest Berlin ticket holders.

The PRESALE for the German shows will take place on July 12th. Important information regarding the presale:

please note that the presale for some of the European shows takes place on July 11th or other dates. however, July 12th applies to all shows in Germany.

The times when the presale starts are now different! The Gelsenkirchen presale starts at 9am, the Hamburg presale at 11am and the presale for the Munich shows at 1pm CET.

If you were chosen (per the email on July 5th), you will receive your code via email until July 11th, 5pm CET at the latest.

click on the link in this email for access.

it is very likely you’ll be sent to the waiting room. eventim says this about the waiting room: When completing your ticket purchase, stay within one browser window. Opening multiple windows or tabs to purchase tickets may result in errors.

tickets are limited to four per customer per unique code. this means: if you receive a code for, for example, Hamburg, you can pick a date and purchase up to four tickets for that date. If you purchase four tickets for that one date, you cannot use that code anymore. If you, however, only purchase two tickets, you can purchase two tickets for the second show as well with that code (see eventim’s reply).

UPDATE: please note that each code only refers to a specific venue. once you’ve gotten through the queue on presale day, you can only buy tickets for that one venue, but you can choose which date you’d like to try for. If you receive codes for several venues, you have to finish purchasing your first order before you get purchase tickets for another venue.

TICKET CODES CANNOT AND SHOULD NOT BE SHARED OR TRANSFERRED. you might not be able to buy tickets if you do so. (imo transferring does work if you’ve got the other person’s account info, as the code is specific to the eventim account tied to it)

tickets will be sold until inventory lasts.

per eventim’s faq page you can only deposit your payment info into your account if you buy tickets from the website. Otherwise it is NOT possible to save your payment info in your account before the sale. But! This should not matter since, after you have added a ticket to your basket, that ticket will be reserved for you for approx. 15 minutes, so plenty of time to put in your payment info! But you should still make sure to check if your credit card has a spending limit!

UPDATE: Tickets will be personalized for the person from whose account the tickets are bought. the people accompanying them do not have to be noted when buying. The buyer of the tickets has to attend the concert! If for some reason the buyer cannot go, you can transfer the tickets to someone else, but it’s a rather lengthy process. an example for how to transfer personalized tickets for a different artist can be found on eventim’s faq page under 3.

UPDATE: USEFUL INFORMATION FOR BEFORE THE PRESALE

make sure you have your password and payment method ready!

clear your cache & cookies!

you CAN and SHOULD already click the link in your presale code email before presale starts. the link sends you to the general presale page. Pick the date of the show you want to attend & click on the grey button to at the right (I’ve added a screenshot below but it’s for the Vienna shows for which the presale was already today, so the button is blue. The button tomorrow will be gray before presale). NOTE: dates may appear twice, as you can see below. the date at the top is always for regular tickets, the one below for vip tickets:

after you have clicked the button, you will be send to a page which will say sth along the lines of “presale hasn’t started yet”

They’ll open a waiting room 30 minutes before presale starts. This waiting room will refresh & send u to the queue automatically once the clock hits the time of the presale. I don’t know whether it influences your position in the queue but I would recommend going into it anyway.

you will be send to the queue once presale starts. DO NO OPEN ANY OTHER TABS OR BROWSERS ANYMORE ONCE YOU’RE IN THE QUEUE! if you do, you’ll lose your spot in the queue.

If you’re WAITLISTED:

per eventim’s faq page, this means that you’re waitlisted until more, if any, tickets become available for your chosen city.

if that is the case, you will be notified via email with the relevant information & timing details.

your notification may come at ANY TIME after July 12, 2023.

eventim & all the venues recommend signing up to the Taylor Nation newsletter in case new presales happen/more shows are added

PRICES & SEATING:

eventim tweeted that they don’t know the prices for tickets until pre-sale begins (it was the same with the Lover Fest Berlin show). so I’d recommend setting yourself a budget (x)

UPDATE: eventim finally released the seating maps for all of the shows! here’s the one for Gelsenkirchen:

this is the map for Hamburg:

and this is the map for Munich:

UPDATE: for Vienna, you could not pick your seat but only the price category of your ticket. eventim tweeted they can’t tell whether that will be the case tomorrow. So, once again, set yourself a budget!

INFORMATION SPECIFIC TO THE GELSENKIRCHEN SHOW (VELTINS-ARENA)

Link to the venue’s site for Taylor’s concert

the stadium will sell hospitality tickets - those will go on sale on July 12th, 10am, too (you’ll be able to buy them under this link)

below, you’ll find the general seating chart for the stadium. They will close the roof of the stadium in case of rain, so - in contrast to Munich - you’ll be sheltered from it anywhere.

General Advice

the venue is cashless - alternatively you can buy a card from them onto which you can load money via cash or use the “schalke 04″ app to preload money on a digital card. this is relevant for buying merch! the physical card might also have a special design for Taylor’s show. (thank you @youlooklikeasixtiesqueen for the info! for more information, you can read her full asks he/re)

INFORMATION SPECIFIC TO THE HAMBURG SHOW (VOLKSPARKSTADION)

below, you’ll find the general seating chart for the stadium. All seats in the bowl are covered by a roof, the floor isn’t.

INFORMATION SPECIFIC TO THE MUNICH SHOW (OLYMPIASTADION)

(I’ve actually been to a concert in this venue before, so if you need info re: where to sit & what the venue is like, send me an ask!)

Link to the venue’s site for Taylor’s concert

General Advice

the Olympiastadion has a roof (in case it rains). but! only sections E2 until V1 one are fully under it, with sections F1 to G2 and U2 to S2 being partially roofed (see general seating chart below). I had tickets for section U2 at my concert and I would actually recommend not going further than this if you really want to be covered by the roof.

if you’re looking for cheap tickets: there should be standing tickets available for the bowl (besides the regularly seated tickets) and those should be the cheapest ones. I can highly recommend them! I had standing tickets for section U2. This section is tiered and has sectioned off rows. Each row consists of two stone steps on which you can sit down. So, imo, it’s essentially like having seats but paying much less money. And you have a great view from them! You also don’t have to worry about when you arrive - they fill these rows up from the back, so technically if you arrive shortly before the show begins, you should be at the front of the section.

#eras tour presale masterpost #! :) as promised #there might already be info missing here so pls bear w me i'm still trying to process everything

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carpblu · 9 months

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Hi everyone, I AM DONE 🥳

This is the last (at least for now 😅) of the little Käärijäs. I will take a good photo of them all soon, but for now enjoy the latest addition: classic bolero käärijä with Bulbasaur hat 😊

(also I did definitely not put him on an eurolava because I accidentally placed him higher than the others 🤣)

Thanks to @j-restlessgeek for confirming that the hat was indeed a good idea and for all your kind words ☺️

Thanks to everyone who enjoyed these silly things, it was so much fun making them and sharing them with you all 😁 this fandom is just lovely and so motivating (:

#käärijä #käärijä fanart #it's crazy it's party it's very silly embroidery

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notafraidofredyellowandblue · 10 months

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We need a thread of all Richard's on stage dances and spins and skips.

Yes, i think you are right, we need one 😊

Young oberkörperfrei Richard with hat "mowing the stage" dance (gif by @cynoodn )

Silver skirt "stomp stomp in a circle stomp stomp" (gif by @reeshhh)

Evolved into "hop in a circle hop hop" (gif by @reeshhh)

which in turn became "hey, there's Paul, hop hop" (gif by @kamcous )

and also "twirl in a circle" (with flapping coat) (gif by @lust-for-sacher )

Then we have the "dance on the spot" (Du Hast) (gif by @lust-for-sacher )

And ofcourse the enigmatic "Abstract dancing for guitarists" also referred to by some as "where is that fly?" (Puppe, gif by @mrsfitzgerald )

And the latest addition(since 2022) "Cheering squad with bandmates" (mostly with Paul and Schneider, sometimes also Flake in his cooking pot, and on very special occassions also Olli) (gif found in post by @cynoodn )

bonus

(because not actually on stage)

After party dancing with daughter

and extra bonus

Dancing with Olli on tourbus

🥰🥰

#richard dancing hopping skipping #rammstein #richard kruspe

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telomeke · 1 year

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GMMTV PRODUCER/DIRECTOR CAMEOS – IT'S NOT JUST FOR KICKS AND GIGGLES

So viewers who are familiar with the progenitors of My School President all had a collective chortle when its producer Aof Noppharnach Chaiwimol appeared in the persona of supertutor Kruu P'Nop (ครูพี่ณพ) in Episode 10:

(above) My School President Ep.10 [2/4] 1.05

This was just the latest instance of a GMMTV director or producer popping up onscreen in their own show. 😍 In A Tale of a Thousand Stars (that he directed), Khun Noppharnach also appeared briefly as a tourist who bought Osmanthus fragrans from a blind man (in turn played by his Assistant Director Phyungsak Naruepai, also nicknamed Aof):

(above) A Tale of a Thousand Stars Ep.5 [1I4] 10.22 – Director Aof is on the left, Assistant Director Aof is on the right and main actor Mix Sahaphap is in the middle (American singer Cassie also has a cameo on Director Aof's t-shirt 😊)

In The Eclipse, Director Golf Tanwarin Sukkhapisit also had their own cameo as the proprietor/manager of the Café for All:

(above) The Eclipse – Ep.4 [3/4] 4.31

However, it was really in Bad Buddy that this trend of having production team cameos got deployed in a big way (possibly because the pandemic simply made it more expedient to use members of the crew as extras and for minor roles – see this blogpost here for more info).

Most notable in BBS was Director Aof's cameo as a pharmacist:

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.1 [4/4] 4.24

Additionally, BBS Assistant Director Au Kornprom also took on a supporting role as Toto, Pran's senior and director of the Kwan-Riam musical, who changed the cishet period drama into a BL production:

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.7 [1I4] 9.39

However, recalling the meticulously clever seed-planting and subsequent plot reveals orchestrated within Bad Buddy itself, we can now tell that this was yet another Aha! moment that they sowed in there – but it was done with the intention for the seed to burst into bloom only later, well after BBS.

For Khun Kornprom's minor role in Bad Buddy as the director of a fictitious BL musical (the story of Kwan and Riam) truly was also foretelling his future role in real life – as the director of an actual BL musical (My School President). 🌼😊👍

So when MSP Producer Aof appeared onscreen in My School President as Tutor Nop, I found myself rooting even harder for MSP Director Au to pop up in a cameo as well, since MSP is in many ways (in its stylings, themes and characterizations) the nong to BBS's phi (and as the younger sibling it also pushes its message out there with a considerably lighter touch, since its target audience is much less mature than BBS's).

With this in mind, for the past 10 episodes I've been on edge awaiting Director Au Kornprom Niyomsil's cameo in MSP – until it hit me that it's already happened:

(top) My School President Ep.2 [3I4] 7.07 – "Suksa" means "education, study or knowledge", while "Niyomsil" refers to the arts, in addition to being Director Au's surname; (bottom) My School President Ep.2 [1I4] 7.18

With the boys' school sharing Director Au's surname ("Niyomsil") this MSP cameo is veiled, rather than openly face-to-face.

But at this point I think the director/producer appearances are not just random anymore – it's possible to read some meaning into them beyond the feel-good giggles each one provokes:

In Bad Buddy, Director Aof's turn as a pharmacist (who provides Pat and Pran with ointment for their injuries) highlights his role in delivering BBS's message of healing, especially the healing of relationships (see this write-up here for more info). This theme of healing is everywhere in BBS – between Pat and Pran (whose relationship was forcefully ruptured by Dissaya in high school), between Pran and Dissaya (after their rift in Ep.10), between Pran and his musical soul (see this write-up here), between Korn and Wai (see this write-up here), between Wai and the world (see this write-up here) and yes even between Ming and Dissaya (see these write-ups here and here – although their process of healing was only tentatively begun and might not ever be complete, like the relationship between the Archi and Engine faculties as well).

In The Eclipse, Director Golf's cameo as proprietor/manager of a café that is open to all, highlighted the role of that series as a safe, non-judgmental space to confront and discuss some hard truths and painful realities with regard to LGBTQ+ issues, especially the experience of growing into your authentic queer self while embedded within an often-oppressive environment.

And in My School President, Director Au and Producer Aof cast themselves in the roles of a school and tutor respectively – they're positioning themselves as educators of the younger set, imparting from phi to nong some heartfelt but no less important lessons on positivity and self-esteem for those just embarking on their LGBTQ+ journey in life (and indeed for their straight allies as well). 💖

I'm less sure of the meaning behind Director Aof's cameo in ATOTS – it was possibly just for fun, since it seems like the first time (or one of the first times anyway) that they did it in a GMMTV series.

But just as Tian in ATOTS helped the villagers sell their tea by perfuming it with Osmanthus fragrans (and in doing so also helped them bypass the mercenary and controlling middlemen), Director Aof may also have been signaling that the soft, sweet-scented mantle of the BL genre could in turn help productions that are supportive of LGBTQ+ equality get their message more directly out to a wider audience. (And if this is indeed the case, I'm not sure he's wrong. 🥰)

It's cool that GMMTV's director/producer cameos can be imbued with significance beyond just the sly wink and chuckle. I'll certainly be watching out for more of them in other shows! 🤩

#my school president #bad buddy #the eclipse #cameos #gmmtv cameos #director cameos #producer/director cameos #telomeke

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that70sshowgoldencouple · 9 months

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Here it is!!!

My latest addition to my That ‘70s Show/Red and Kitty collection!

Now you might be thinking, what is it? Or that’s it? But let me explain.

This is a photo/mini poster and T-shirt celebrating the 25th anniversary. The ones that they were giving away at Comic Con this year where, as many of you know, Debra Jo Rupp and Kurtwood Smith were supposed to attend and talk about the show *and* have a Q and A session.

So even though they couldn’t go, and I didn’t go, I think it’s a super cool souvenir. I like to imagine if Debra Jo Rupp and Kurtwood Smith had been in attendance these would’ve been the posters they might’ve signed.

Think I know what I’m taking with me to the next T9S filming! 😁

P.S. @thatseventiesbitch it’s not the actual cut outs from the display but pretty close, no? Lol

The shirt is cute and simple, wondering if I could do a tie-dye with it!

Sorry if y’all were expecting something bigger/cooler I’ll share some more pieces of my T7S collection soon 😊

#that 70s show #red forman #kitty forman #that '70s show #red and kitty #red and kitty forman #debra jo rupp #kurtwood smith #my collection #comic con #25th anniversary #debra jo rupp and kurtwood smith #my stuff #memorabilia #that70sshowedit #that ‘70s show

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undreaming-fanfiction · 1 year

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For the writing prompt, I'd love to see your take on 26 of you feel so inclined 😊 I love your writing!

I'm so, SO sorry this took so long. But the prompt you chose was so good I wanted to do it justice and...well. Have an almost 8k fanfic instead of a drabble, I guess? Thank you so much for your support, reblogs and comments, they always make my day!

26: “I think I’ve been holding myself from falling in love with you all over again.”

Second Time's The Charm

Summary: In 1983, strange things start happening in Hawkins, Indiana. Barb Holland develops an irrational fear of water. Will Byers feels constantly cold and weak. Steve Harrington seems to have a concussion, but there's nothing on his pretty face. Eddie Munson watches all these events unfold without knowing that this is only a beginning to a story where he also has a role to play.

1983

Eddie Munson knew all his life where he belonged. Not literally, he'd never had a stable home until Wayne took him in and he still half-expected his uncle to run of patience with his petty crimes one day, no matter how many times the man grasped his shoulder - gently, so much more than his father ever had - and repeated he'd never, ever give up on him. But he always knew his rank in the world's pecking order, he was the trailer trash, the freak, the kid of a criminal. His life had been decided for him the moment he was born, he would live on the edge of the society, make friends with his kind of people, hopefully not crossing paths with the more privileged ones for too long. Like jocks. Like the King Steve Harrington.

It was all just a giant joke. They never spoke much in school, Eddie got held back once and they ended up in the same class, but something happened with King Steve in November of 1983, shortly after one of the girls in high school, Barbara Holland, got an inexplicable panic attack and developed fear of water, out of the blue. Eddie had no idea what was going on with that, but he saw Nancy Wheeler, Steve's rumored girlfriend, comforting the girl, and maybe he saw something in her eyes, something...haunted? Like a piece knowledge no one should ever have to retain, a curse no one would ever understand. Or maybe he was just imagining things. Surely he was. Still, it made a sick addition to his latest campaign.

With King Steve, there was no grand break down, no new phobia. One day he was his usual self, a giant douchebag ruling the pathetic pile of dung that was the high school hierarchy, shoving people away and making cruel remarks with Tommy Hagan. The next day, he wobbled into the morning class that Eddie miraculously also managed to get up for, pale as a sheet of paper. He sometimes touched his nose as if there was something wrong with it - a ridiculous notion, it looked as perfect as ever. Eddie assumed Steve had overdone it the night before and was pretty hungover, but that wasn't it. Steve suddenly became more quiet, cut off Tommy and Carol and fully dedicated his time to his girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler. Even if there were rumored falling outs, they overcame all of them - until they didn't.

1984

Their breakup happened in late 1984, Eddie couldn't be bothered to remember the date, but he knew about it. Everyone knew about it, just as well as about the new usurper king, even douchier Billy Hargrove. And sure, break ups had their weird sides, people got all glassy-eyed, sniffling and scrunching their faces like a badly done origami (not that Eddie would know from experience, but he'd seen enough of high school drama to last ten lifetimes), but what was happening with Steve Harrington definitely wasn't just that.

Just like the last time, the change happened overnight. One day he was moping in the typical teenager fashion, the next one he made his way to the school and fucking wobbled. Eddie had no other name for it, Steve didn't seem injured but his eyes were unfocused, traveling almost lazily between other students, as if he couldn't see anyone, not really. He couldn't maintain his usual stride, having to lean against walls to support himself. Eddie was convinced Hargrove would make Steve's life a living hell for that, one last blow to put the former king out of his misery, but the new ruler seemed to be in a bad shape too, avoiding Steve like he had the plague and sometimes touching his neck, as if there was something there - but it wasn't, Eddie's eyes were sharp and there. Was. NOTHING. He was dying to know what was going on, but no way was he going to approach either of those two and ask.

And as if that day wasn't fucked up enough, as if Harrington didn't keep switching between all signs of a concussion and anxious fidgeting, as soon as the last bell rang, he grabbed his bag and, not even bothering to stash anything in his locker, bolted outside. Eddie couldn't help his own curiosity, he pushed away all the thoughts about what killed the cat and followed Steve outside, maybe he'd get an answer, maybe he'd finally understand what's happening.

But of course not.

What he saw confused him even more. The jockiest of all jocks he'd ever known was standing in a circle of middle school kids, having a heated discussion. Eddie felt a pang of fear for the kids, but Steve wasn't angry, wasn't bullying anyone, he even gently touched shoulders of the curly-haired kid, as if making sure he was fine. He couldn't understand much of what was said, but he caught bits and pieces - "I was sure I was going crazy-", "why can't we remember" and "trigger the memories of what happened, we can't remember the future yet," that one was the weirdest.

Eddie could have stood there for hours, but then a loud crack of the door reminded him that eavesdropping on Harrington was a death wish. He vaguely registered older Byers and Nancy Wheeler rushing towards the group, joining in on the conversation, and he reluctantly turned his back to them, headed for his van.

When he drove past them, he noticed one of the kids watching him. She was almost scrawny, her hair short and curly, and he managed to place her as Chief Hopper's adoptive daughter Jane. Yet another mystery in this small town, how the notorious drunk got sober and managed to adopt a strange, quiet kid.

The others were still lost in conversation, but Jane stared directly at Eddie as if she could see right into his soul. She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but then closed it shut and turned back to Steve.

Well, that was fucking weird.

1985

Steve graduated and Eddie did not. At this point it was a fucking joke, he was pretty sure there had been some kind of beef between the principal and his shitty non-parental figure, the infamous Daniel Munson, back in the days. Eddie was determined to graduate this time and vowed to keep the amount of trouble to if not none, then at least minimal. He kept dealing because no one wanted to hire the Munson's son, no matter how stupid the job was, and he'd be damned if he cost Wayne a cent more than he had to. The next year would be his year, damn it.

Summer came and with it more weirdness, new kind. Hargrove went from condescending and flirty - even trying to hit on Wheeler's mother, Jesus H Christ! - to strange as hell, paranoid, almost remorseful. He found a job at the pool as a lifeguard and soon, the other girl, Heather, became jumpy as well. Billy no longer drove like a maniac, took the craziest routes he could to avoid one part of the town and Eddie couldn't figure out why. There was nothing there, just steelworks or something. There were even rumors that Billy started reluctantly patching up the relationship with his step-sister, Maxine. They were seen in a diner, hunched over untouched food, exchanging worried glances and talking in low, rushed words. Not that they were friendly, god no, but the animosity disappeared and there seemed to be something they shared, something ugly that bound them together. Eddie remembered Nancy's eyes from that day in 1983 and didn't like the similarities one bit.

The Hawkins Post suddenly announced a week long break, no explanation. So many people checked into the hospital with burning pain in their stomachs, sparking conspiracy theories about a chemical leak, water poisoning, all that, but there was no proof and no number of examinations could uncover what was causing this. Everyone got gradually discharged and the whole episode was swept under the rug as mass hysteria. Fitting.

Harrington became best friends not only with one of the nerdy kids, Dustin Henderson, but also with a girl from Eddie's new class, Robin Buckley. Just like that. She was in a band, she kept making jabs at Steve's lack of love life (and yes, Eddie might have snuck in to see what new mysteries the ex-jock had and caught a glimpse of the work uniform that would haunt his dreams and never let him get an ice cream cone without his ears catching fire). And once bloody again, the change happened suddenly, overnight.

Buckley and Harrington were slinging ice cream, making poorly concealed jabs at each other, closed shop and went home. The next morning they rushed to work an hour early, locked themselves in the back room and talked without even opening the shop, or at least that's what the rumors were. When they came out, they both looked sickly green and sweaty, unsteady on their feet, handed in their resignations and moved on to their next job, together. It was probably for the best because - yet another fucking mystery! - people stopped frequenting the mall and it became a ghost town. No reason, no explanation. Once again, overnight.

1986

Eddie tried to get used to the weirdness. Chief Hopper got together with Joyce Byers? Sure, that apparently happened now. Billy packing up his Camaro and leaving during the night after punching his asshole of a father right in the jaw? Pretty chill for the town. A guy from California named Argyle suddenly appearing at the Byers' doorstep as if he always belonged there, introducing the monstrosity of a pineapple pizza to the once - hah - peaceful town of Hawkins? Sure. Chrissy Cunningham smiling at him like he was the best thing in the whole world and buying some sleeping pills off him? Okay. The known conspiracy theorist Murray Bauman moving into the neighborhood with a housemate who couldn't speak a single word in English. Yep, typical Hawkins.

But some of the weirdness crept into his life too. He became so accustomed to only observing all of the crap that he never suspected he'd get dragged into it too. It all started with the new school year, when he saw a buch of unhappy looking freshmen in the cafeteria and he just knew. He didn't have a hunch, he didn't have to think at all, something pulled his gaze towards them and before he knew it, he was marching towards them and dragging them off to sit with the Hellfire Club. They didn't protest at all and, unlike Jeff and Gareth, they had the same uneasy feeling that he was experiencing. That their meeting was no coincidence.

Steve Harrington didn't disappear from his life completely, even though it might have been more comfortable, more convenient. Eddie nearly choked on his drink when they wrapped up the first Helfire session with the newcomers and who the fuck did roll in to chauffer them home? Of course it was him. They sometimes met in the school corridors, quiet and abandoned by then, only nodded at each other in passing. It meant nothing. And that was a lie.

A tiny thought was nagging in the back of Eddie's head, like a forgotten song that begged to be named, and it drove him crazy - something in Steve's presence triggered that realization, that unshakeable certainty that he knew something about him that others couldn't see, couldn't understand even if he'd taken hours to explain. Not that he'd be able to do so - how could anyone explain that when he passed the other boy in the hallway, his sides started aching in a strange phantom pain, his heartbeat quickened and there was a sense of relief, easiness on his mind? I'm so glad you're okay, his heart repeated over and over and Eddie felt like he was going crazy, except not, because Steve would freeze at the same moment, clutch at his sides too and stare at Eddie, his eyes warm and unguarded.

Eddie did his best to keep his eyes on the finish line, the possible graduation shining like a beacon in his future. It wasn't easy, the mutual animosity with Jason carver turning into strange staring matches, tension in the air palpable. They should have been sniping insults at each other, but they couldn't bring themselves to do that, there was something terrifying just round the corner and Eddie found himself frozen, like prey when the predator circles it, prepares for the kill.

And then it happened. Chrissy Cunningham collapsed the evening of the championship game, screaming in pain and twisting on the ground, but there were no wounds, nothing to indicate what was wrong. People watched helplessly and Eddie suddenly knew, suddenly remembered - she died. She died and he watched it happen. It didn't even matter that he wasn't anywhere near Chrissy that night, he was in his trailer, practicing on his baby. Something just snapped and he knew instantly.

He stumbled from his bedroom and promptly threw up, barely making it to the small bathroom. The trailer ceiling was as clean as ever (which wasn't very much, but there were no tentacles, nothing leaking from it), but he couldn't believe anything he saw anymore. So when he finally rinsed his mouth and wobbled to the kitchenette to get something to drink, the tap on his door had him close to a heart attack.

It was Steve Harrington because of course it was him. Steve Harrington, the former King of the Hawkins high, squeezed past Eddie and took in his pale face, the circles under his eyes, and opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm so sorry you got dragged into this crap, Eddie."

From all the things Eddie Munson expected to hear Steve, this was definitely not high on the list. It wasn't even on the list. Anywhere near the list, not in the 100 mile radius. But the worst thing was - it made sense. In some twisted, forgotten way, he knew what Steve was talking about and that freaked him out just as much as the vaguely familiar sound of snapping bones reverberating in his head. "How...how did you find out about me? Being a part of...whatever this is?" he croaked out. "Is that why you've been so weird? Has this been happening to you too?"

Steve just nodded and dragged Eddie off to the couch, pushed him down to sit. He probably looked like he'd faint any minute, which, fair point. "Yeah. It started in 1983 for me. One day I just...do you know Barb Holland? Yeah, one morning I just woke up and knew she was dead. Except she wasn't." Steve's eyes were serious and Eddie wondered how difficult it must have been for him to say these things, these things that sounded crazy.

Steve took hours to explain, going through the history of what he remembered. How he knew in 1984 he simply had to check on Dustin and the others, how relieved he was to see them okay. How he and Billy looked at each other, never talked but knew of what happened in another time, another life. How Steve's head ached, how Will Byers spent a week feeling cold and numb. How he knew one day that he and Robin Buckley were friends, just like that. How when Chrissy collapsed, he suddenly knew that Eddie's life got turned upside down (a poor joke, but it still made Eddie chuckle) and the kids immediately called him to go and check on their friend, to make sure he was safe.

Eventually they both grew silent. Eddie was fidgeting, playing with his rings, because he didn't want to ask the question on the tip of his tongue. But he had to. "So...do you know what happens next?"

Steve shook his head and leaned back into the sofa. "Nah, man. We only remember when the time of the event or whatever it is passes. But sometimes we get premonitions, or that's what Dustin calls them. Like...you feel something is about to happen, you don't know what, but it draws you to someone."

"Like with Jason," gasped Eddie and Steve just nodded, waited for him to continue. "The bastard has been staring at me for weeks, I had no idea why, but I...I guess I do now. In the other life, he thought I did something to Chrissy."

"Yeah," breathed Steve. "That's it. We don't know, like, really know, but we feel it when something is going to happen to someone. And it's crazy, because sometimes these are people you never talked to, but you just know, you know how you're going to feel about them and it makes no fucking sense. But the feelings never go away."

Eddie was staring at him, suddenly aware of how small the couch was, how close they were. Because perhaps it wasn't a coincidence that Steve caught his attention, perhaps he hadn't been watching him out of mere curiosity for years. "They don't?"

Steve shook his head and moved closer. His and Eddie's knees were touching and Eddie's mouth suddenly felt dry. "Never. I think..." he bit his lip and Eddie was terrified for a moment that he'd stop, he wouldn't say what was on his mind. "I think I've been holding myself from falling in love with you all over again," he whispered, not meeting Eddie's eyes. "I've thought about it so fucking much and it made no sense, we never hung out, we never even spoke to each other, but there's something pulling me towards you and...god, you must think I'm crazy."

Eddie laughed, a tinge of hysteria in his voice. "After you told me we're re-living several years of supernatural phenomena from another dimension? I mean...yeah, it sounds crazy, but it explains so much. Because I've been feeling that pull you mentioned too and it's...what do we even do about that? Wait until we know how we...shit, I can't believe I'm saying this, but wait until we know how we get together?"

Steve was rubbing his temples and Eddie's heart twitched with sympathy, he looked so tired and all over this bullshit. "Would it be weird if I said I don't want to?" He licked his lips and finally looked at Eddie, so vulnerable, so open. "I don't know how this ends. Or when. But I know what I feel and if you feel the same, then-"

"God, yeah." The words were out of his mouth without consulting his brain first, but screw it, maybe his heart could take over for this. "Steve, I don't give a flying fuck how, I just...I feel like this is right, you know? And it's batshit crazy, but if you're down for it-"

"Yeah." They were so close, close enough that Eddie could smell Steve's cologne, and it was so painfully familiar. "I am, Eddie."

They kissed then, on the old couch in the cluttered trailer, but it could have been anywhere and Eddie would still consider it perfect. Steve's shoulders were strong under the Family Video vest and Eddie's fingers traveled across them, pulling him even closer, and Steve went willingly, holding onto Eddie's waist like a lifeline. And maybe it was - Eddie suddenly felt terrified because he remembered all those moments, all that pain exploding in his sides, and Steve's too - did they make it the last time? Did they survive whatever horrors Hawkins had in store for them? Was this their last chance to be together? Did they become lovers because they needed the comfort while saving the world?

He didn't say any of that aloud, not then. He just cradled Steve's head like the most precious item in the whole universe and kept kissing him. He kept kissing him on the couch, on the way to his bedroom, on his bed. The next morning too, before Steve had to leave for his job and Eddie to school. He was kissing him when another memory popped into his head, a scrawny kid from Nancy's newspaper being reported dead, and when they were wrapped around each other in Eddie's bed, he remembered being hunted and one of his pursuers dying, just like Chrissy had. "You're safe," Steve whispered against his forehead as he stroked Eddie's back between his shoulder blades as Eddie struggled to get his breathing under control. "You're safe and I'm here, Eddie, I'm here and if I can do anything to help-!"

They fell asleep together that night, talking about small nonsense, carefully avoiding any landmines like where do we go from here or do you think we'll go through the same shit like Chrissy. It didn't help that sometimes the memories appeared in one go, sometimes gradually, over several hours, as if to keep them all on their toes. But there was still nothing when they woke up, only more feeling of inevitable doom.

The next day, they met with everyone - all his Dungeons and Dragons sheep and their friend Max, Jonathan Byers, Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, that weird guy called Argyle who still seemed to be half-stoned, half out of place, but most importantly, Jane Hopper and her adoptive family. Hopper tried to stand upright, but he often flinched, as if being hit. More and more memories flooded his mind every second, Joyce quietly informed them when he went for a smoke, memories of a Russian prison camp. "He feels constantly cold and hungry," she whispered, her voice trembling.

They filled Eddie in, all apologetic that he had to experience this side of Hawkins, as if they had had any choice in the matter when it first sucked them in.

"We believe it's a process of healing for both dimensions," Dustin explained and Eddie just stared at him because sure it would be, nothing to heal the rift between two different worlds like having them relive all the shit. "It's closing from the moment they properly connected, so 1983. The year Upside Down is stuck in. We think that it means we managed to sever the connection for good."

Eddie closed his eyes and sighed. If it wasn't for Steve's hand squeezing his shoulder, he would have had a more significant freak out. "That's great. But we don't know when that happened, right?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"Okay. So, theoretically. If you're correct, are you telling me we can go through this for...what. Years? Decades?" Eddie's voice was getting more and more desperate as he spoke, hissing words between his teeth as if it pained him to even think them. "Are we going to just wait for whenever we stop feeling like shit? Just go through the motions of something we never did this time around?"

Nancy took a deep breath. She was holding Jonathan's hand and Eddie remembered Steve's comment on how in the other life, the whole Byers family moved to California. Having memories of a completely different place had to be way more fucked up than just staying in Hawkins, but what did he know. "We, um. We think that we're getting close to the gate being closed. The premonitions are getting more frequent and stronger, that's the only thing that has been happening gradually and not changing."

Eddie just nodded. "Great. Well, gotta say I'm excited for the big reveal. Are the guys who died in the other timeline okay? I mean. They don't..."

"Die?" asked Max, frowning. "No. From what I know, Billy is very much alive, and he died last summer. The...other last summer. He's not okay, I mean, not fully. But he's managing it, tries to work around the pains and fucked up memories. We...talk sometimes."

It was Argyle who lightened the mood. He was swaying from side to side, smiling at everyone, and just slapped Jonathan's shoulder as if they were discussing a soccer strategy. "Good. Let's throw a massive party when this shit is over, yeah? We've all been good, we deserve that."

It sounded good, too good to be true. And Eddie found out soon enough that there's no rest for the wicked. That night, Steve woke up next to him, screaming in pain and gasping for breath, grasping at invisible strands at his throat. Eddie wished it had been a nightmare because he could have woken Steve up, could have wiped his tears away and kiss everything better. But not when Steve took a gulp of cool night air that Eddie let in the trailer and still breathed in choked wheezes, not when he grasped at his sides, hissing in pain. Eddie could only do what Steve did for him a few days back, stroking his hair and whispering empty promises into the ragged breaths and silence of the night.

He really wanted to skip that morning, but Steve assured him he'd be fine, the memory of those hellish bats was still fresh but that meant they made it out. He'd just rest, he said, he'd rest and they would see each other in the afternoon. And Eddie reluctantly agreed. He said goodbye to Steve, kissed his cheek before making his way to the school, determined to leave that hellhole behind for good. The pain in his sides was sharp that day and he wondered if he'd learn what caused it soon, like Steve had...

And he had, oh god, he had learned. He went through several classes, waiting for the pain to subside, but it never had. Eddie was gripping his pen hard enough to crack the surface and he was breathing heavily, hardly able to concentrate on anything. What was even worse was that there were no new memories, no reason, but he could feel it creeping closer, breathing down his neck.

At the end of the fourth period, he couldn't take it anymore. He rose up, his legs shaking, and tried to excuse himself, but Mrs. Click was relentless. "I don't care if this is some kind of a bad trip you are having, Mr. Munson, but if you leave now, you are not going to pass my class," she spat at him as he stumbled from his desk and stood between opened doors, grasping his sides.

"It's...not that, I swear." Cold sweat was streaking down his forehead and his throat was raw, swollen. "I just feel really sick, I need to-!"

The eyes behind her glasses were stone cold. "The only thing you need is to finally get your priorities in order, young man. If you walk out that door, I will be seeing you again next year. That's a promise I- oh." She stumbled over her words and Eddie couldn't understand what was going on, what ended her tirade early, but then gentle hands carefully supported his back and he slumped against the familiar warmth of Steve Harrington.

"Steve..." he whispered, not daring to move. Was it possible that someone's presence could alleviate pain? He didn't know, but just a glimpse of that yellow sweater made him hopeful that he could make it through this. And then Steve moved to his side and Eddie could finally see his face. If he hadn't known how soft hearted Steve was, his expression would have terrified him.But it wasn't aimed at him, the beautiful face turned into a sneer was turned towards Mrs. Click.

"What is wrong with you?!" Steve snapped and the teacher took a step back, her mouth hanging open in a shocked expression. She'd never heard him speak to her like this. Speak to anyone like this. Steve had always been the goofy, light-hearted type, frustrating to deal with for his ignorance and lack of focus. But he'd never been threatening.

Eddie shook his head and regretted it immediately as a wave of nausea hit him. "Steve, it's fine, I can...I will just..."

Steve's hand squeezed his shoulders, his eyes never leaving the shorter woman still standing in the classroom. "No, it's not fine! You're in pain, I can see that, and this hag can just assume it's drugs? I'm pretty sure I did way more of that in my sophomore year, but I never got held back, never got denied fucking medical attention when I was hurting! So why, pray tell me," he turned towards the elderly woman, his voice drenched in venom, "why are you so certain that Eddie can't be in actual pain? Because it doesn't fit your narrative? Because then you'd have to admit how horribly, disgustingly unfair you've all been to him?"

She was shaking now, pale as a ghost. "Just go," she muttered. "Take...take Mr. Munson with you, I must have misjudged his condition. And please, call us if he needs to stay home to...to rest."

Steve huffed out a bitter chuckle, the anger lines in his face not disappearing, not yet. "I will do exactly that. And I will be back tomorrow to get the work he missed, because he's graduating this year. This will be his year. So be so kind," and if that didn't sound bitingly ironic, "and ensure that it's ready. I'll be here in the morning."

She weakly nodded.

Steve didn't waste a single second, as soon as he finished talking he flung Eddie's arm over his shoulder and carefully led him to the bench in the school corridor, kneeling in front of him. "Shit, Eddie. I'm so, so sorry baby. I could feel something really bad was about to happen, there were some signs for me too and I just wanted to make sure you're fine. I wish I never made you go to school today, I'm going to murder that hag, I swear I am," he babbled and stroked Eddie's cheeks, brushing away the cold sweaty strands of hair.

Eddie had to laugh at that, even though his sides felt like they were splitting open. "I'm pretty sure you saved my grade, Steve. And my dignity, I was about to faint there."

Carrying Eddie wasn't an option, Steve's phantom pains were still present and Eddie hissed in agony at every touch, every movement, so Steve just supported him back to the car. He drove slow, not making any sudden turns, anything to avoid causing Eddie more suffering. When they finally made it to the trailer, Steve just held Eddie in his arms as they tried to wait it out, the burning pain in their bodies growing stronger, more insistent.

"Tell me," Eddie muttered into Steve's shoulder, "what is your favorite fruit and why. I need to focus on something. So please bear with my stupid questions."

Steve slowly blinked. As sun was slowly setting, the pain around his throat was becoming more and more unbearable. But anything was better than thinking why Eddie was in such a bad shape, his body twisting and stiffening with agony more and more often. "Um. I like bananas, I think," he said and stroked Eddie's hair. "Not really because of the flavor, the shape is...well. Suggestive. But they remind me of when me and Robin became friends, back in Scoops. We always had some lying around for ice cream decoration or whatever. So when they weren't that good looking anymore, went a bit brown, we could eat them. When we...uh. Remembered, you know. We had to quit that place, but sometimes we still buy a bunch of bananas as a snack." He smiled against Eddie's forehead, the memory comforting. He knew Robin was hurting too, her throat sore along with her wrists and ankles, but they promised each other to call if things got worse. If they remembered. She was with Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle, the kids were also together. It was terrifying - they already had a routine to keep when they knew another horrendous memory was on the horizon. And it felt like this one was going to be the worst one so far.

Eddie chuckled, pained but still present. "Don't think I've ever seen you eat a banana. Has to be a sight to die for," he joked and something in Steve's chest went ice cold. No, please no.

He tried to maintain his light tone. "I'll make sure to get one the second you get better. And if you want, I can even eat it in my old uniform, to give you the full Scoops Ahoy experience, the dumb hat included," he promised.

"I'd like that," Eddie whispered back. "It's a good motivation to go through this crap and not jump under the nearest truck because I can't lie, Stevie, it's...not ideal. So fucking far from ideal." He grasped at Steve's t-shirt, pulling himself closer. "Do you think...do you think we'll keep the memories when the gate is closed?"

Steve carefully spread his fingers over Eddie's back, cradled him. "This is going to make me sound like a selfish jerk, but I fucking hope so," he admitted to the merciful darkness. "I can't...I can't even imagine not having this. You and me. Robin's friendship, Dustin, all the guys. I don't want to be the guy I was before all of this. Before you."

Eddie didn't say anything, just stroked Steve's chest. His breathing was getting faster and faster and Steve could hear the jarring sound of ground teeth. "Oh fuck, I think...this is-!"

And throughout Eddie's pained screams and Steve's stifled breaths, they remembered. They remembered the plan that went wrong, the swarms of man-eating bats surging towards Eddie and Dustin. Eddie recalled the agony of his body, Steve the one of his soul when he found Dustin curled over Eddie's lifeless body. Steve distantly wondered what this meant, the ground shaking and splitting, the spot where Vecna's body landed bloody but empty, if Max was suffering too, the rest of the Creel House team, and he prayed not, but the heavy feeling in his stomach said otherwise. He cradled Eddie through the spasms, the wails that gradually turned into quiet sobbing. "You're okay, love," he whispered to him, wiped away his tears again, like so many times this week. "You're okay, I swear you are, you are here with me." Maybe he was also trying to persuade himself that it was all over, that he could finally forget the image of Eddie's empty, unblinking eyes.

They must have eventually fallen asleep because when Steve came to, the dawn was breaking over the roofs of the trailer park. The shadows were blue and grey in Eddie's room and he hoped he could just hang out here one day, in all of the clutter that made Eddie himself. Maybe instead of fighting off pain and memories of the world ending, they could cook together, watch movies, talk about music, bananas and what else. He reached out to stroke Eddie's cheek, gently remove the hair that had fallen over his face during the night. His breathing still seemed ragged and Steve wondered if he was still in pain, but when he moved the curls behind his ear, he met Eddie's eyes, glassy and brimming with tears. "What's wrong, baby?" Steve whispered and moved closer to him. "Does it still hurt that bad? Can I...can I do anything for you?"

Eddie choked out a sob and tried to pull away but Steve held him to his chest. "I died, Steve. I died a week after we started talking."

"I know." The memory was still fresh in Steve's mind, all the blood, Dustin's cries. Having to leave Eddie behind because the gates were closing and no matter how they tried, they could not carry him into the trailer gate in their condition. Steve remembered swearing he'd go back, he'd bring Eddie home, but the gates closed, erupted in fiery lines. He squeezed Eddie's back. "I know you did, baby, and I'm so fucking sorry. But it's okay now. It's over for you, you don't need to worry-"

"Steve." The word was so tired, so broken that Steve had to pull back, look into Eddie's eyes. His tears weren't stopping and he was clenching his fists against Steve's chest. "Don't you get it? What that means?" When Steve shook his head, Eddie almost whimpered and buried his head in the pillow, inching away from Steve. "If I died that night, Steve. And I did, I'm pretty sure I did...when did we get together? Because from what I remember, we were barely friends before those fuckers tore me apart."

Steve took a deep breath. "Oh. That's...okay, good point, but-"

Eddie sat up, groaning in pain, and buried his face in his hands. "Yeah, good point indeed," he chuckled, but there was nothing humorous in it. "I knew it was too good to be true. The best thing in my life? It was just a giant misunderstanding. We never had anything, it was all guilt, just fucking guilt." He was speaking quickly, hands muffling his words, and he wouldn't meet Steve's gaze. "Maybe there were unvoiced wishes from my side, but we weren't even friends, not to mention lovers. I just assumed, I wanted to-I needed to believe that it was true and I'm so fucking sorry, Steve."

A calloused hand found its way onto Eddie's covered back and ran comforting circles there, as if Eddie just hadn't uncovered that the entirety of their relationship was based on a giant lie. "What on earth are you sorry for?" asked Steve. He didn't even sound angry, just concerned.

Eddie froze and finally shifted sideways, staring at Steve with wet, puffy eyes. "Huh?"

Steve's hand didn't let up, he only moved closer, enveloping Eddie in a hug that had to hurt his back, the weird angle and everything. "So we never got together in the other timeline. So fucking what," he laughed and Eddie thought for a moment Steve must have injured his head during their fight with Vecna because how didn't he see he'd basically scammed his way into his heart? But Steve knew, Steve knew and didn't care, and what a fucking emotional roller coaster. "You were so worried about just repeating everything, that we had no free will in whatever would happen. Isn't this exactly what we hoped for?"

He decided to be selfish for a moment. Closing his eyes, Eddie leaned into Steve's warmth. "I don't see how in any version of the past, present or future you'd hope for ending up with me, Steve," he whispered, still waiting for Steve to come to his senses.

But he didn't, god, Steve was still with him and Eddie prayed he'd never change his mind. "You should," he smiled and mouthed at Eddie's jaw, kissing his ear until the stiff muscles in Eddie's shoulders relaxed. "Shit, Eddie. This is not us repeating what we went through. This," he said and grabbed Eddie's hand, held it to his chest, "is what I've been praying for since you died. I don't know if I survived, if I lived through the rest of it, not yet. But knowing you died, I...I feel so happy I didn't wait this time, Eddie. This is everything to me. A second chance. To know you, to understand myself, to see if I was deluding myself when I thought there was something..."

Eddie shook his head and turned to Steve, covered the tanned hand with his own. "You weren't," he croaked out, squeezing Steve like a lifeline. "There was something, like...a massive something. I tried to push you towards Wheeler because you seemed so miserable, but I...I wasn't lying I was fucking jealous, Steve. But not of you. Of her. Of the way you looked at her, I guess I only then realized how much I wanted that for myself and when I remembered all that, it made me feel like I cheated somehow. Like I got you when I wasn't supposed to." The words were leaving his mouth at a breakneck speed, unfiltered and raw, but he was past caring. Steve was here, Eddie was alive and it all seemed like a giant fucking miracle.

Steve tugged on his arm to lie back down and snuggled next to him, peppering Eddie's face with tiny kisses. "There were so many things that weren't supposed to happen. Trust me, I have a list. But this...this feels like the only thing that was supposed to happen. The only thing that makes going through all that worth it, and I never thought anything would be, but I...I would gladly go through it again, those hellish years, if it meant I'll get to have this. Have us."

Eddie was laughing now, the tears on his face drying, but not really, because there were new ones. Tears of joy. "I feel like I should be yelling at you right now. How can you just ...just say that you'd go through the ugliest, most gruesome thing ever, just to have...me? But I can't, I fucking can't yell at you, because I get it, I would too. Die again, get eaten, whatever. Stupid, so goddamn stupid. Both of us."

They were giggling, grasping at each other in the comfortable silence of the dawn. "Maybe that's why we're a good fit," mumbled Steve against Eddie's lips. "Maybe that's why whatever we have just works. And I want to keep it, keep you, if you let me."

Eddie batted his lashes at him, attempting to look shy but failing. "I think I can squeeze you into my schedule."

They met with the rest of the group of the other 1986 that day, after Steve stopped by the high school and collected Eddie's missed work. As soon as they entered the Wheelers' basement, Dustin crushed Eddie into a hug, sobbing and babbling nonsense, and Steve went immediately for Max, pale and exhausted, embracing her like the small miracle that she was. "Shit, Red, if I'd known I'd never have agreed to the plan," he muttered against her vibrant hair while she sobbed quietly into his chest. "You're the bravest person I know and I'm not letting anything happen to you this time around, you hear me?" They were still shaken, some of them in pain that might never fade, but they were alive, they were together and that would have to do. Hospitals were full again, Jason Carver collapsed in pain that he described as his insides melting, and Steve couldn't help but feel a little vindictive. More "mass hysteria", more phantom pains of all injured and dead in the earthquake of 1986 that never happened.

Steve and Eddie remained inseparable. Wayne accepted that the Harrington boy lived with them now, too consumed by relief after remembering losing Eddie, and welcomed having someone around who cared about his nephew so much. It was coming to an end, slowly but surely, and it was Eddie's turn to comfort Steve now, hold him through new memories, new revelations, new pain.

"I think it's coming soon," whispered Steve when pangs of pain became worse and worse, his head and limbs feeling like they caught fire, and they both knew what it meant, knew but never said it, and when the moment arrived, Eddie was ready. The second he got the call from panicked Robin, he immediately shot outside and drove like crazy to the Family Video, to Steve who was twisting and turning on the ground, grasping at his head, his jaw, biting his lips enough to bleed to keep his screams down. "I'm here, Stevie," whispered Eddie and sat next to Steve, pulled him to his lap while Robin slumped next to them, mumbling that Vecna must have knocked her out at that point, grabbing Steve's hand and holding onto it, afraid to let go.

It was fortunately a quiet day, but Eddie still insisted on covering for them. "Let me be the dead man walking for a bit before you steal my shtick, baby," he smiled at Steve and kissed his sweaty forehead, moving him so he and Robin were next to each other. She was sobbing into her hands now, probably remembering how she woke up and Steve was gone, not just gone but disfigured, consumed by Vecna like everyone else.

"He jumped in front of El," she whispered and wiped at her tears, smearing her mascara everywhere. "He actually hit Vecna with that baseball bat, can you believe it? We were losing, losing so bad, and Vecna came after El and..."

"Of course he did," said Eddie and smiled fondly at Steve who was comforting Robin to the best of his ability. "Of course he was the one who saved the day."

It was ten in the evening when Eddie's phone rang for the second time that day. It was El, breathing heavily and probably still crying, but she laughed into the receiver and told Eddie: "I closed it. I closed it for good and that's where everything ended. I think that is when we returned back. There should be nothing else. No more pain, just..." She sniffled and there was a rustling of a tissue. "We can live again. We did it."

Eddie smiled into the receiver, his mouth hurt from the wide grin but he couldn't help it. "You are a star, little lady," he told her and meant every word. "Thank you, thank you so much."

"You too," she said and Eddie feels warmth in his chest, as if he actually belonged somewhere. And maybe he did. "What you did...what everyone did. We all did it together. I'm not a star. We are all stars." A muffled voice behind her interrupted Eddie's tearful answer and when she came back to the phone, she sounded even happier. "Dad says we will have that celebration tomorrow. Can you and Steve come over?"

"Wouldn't miss it, even for the second end of the world," he laughed and after a few assurances and agreeing who should call who, they end the conversation.

Eddie turned around and Steve was there, leaning against the door to his room. As if he'd always belonged there, as if there was no timeline when they were strangers. Eddie walked up to him and wrapped his arms around his middle, mindful of the memory of broken bones. "So," he whispered and perhaps there was a tinge of fear to his voice because Steve returned the embrace, firm and secure. "Do you...feel any different? Are you forgetting things? Do you..." The question burned on his tongue but he couldn't bring himself to say it.

Steve just shook his head and kissed Eddie's temple. "Still crazy about you, Munson," he whispered and grasped Eddie's hand, kissing it too. "And if you're worried I'll ever forget I love you, I'll just have to tattoo it as a reminder. For both of us."

Eddie's mouth opened into a surprised O. "How are you even real, Stevie?" he asked, staring at Steve from underneath his bangs. "How the hell did I fall in love with such a sweet guy and have him feel the same? This goes so much against the Munson doctrine I'll have to rewrite the thing."

"Make it the Munson-Harrington doctrine," said Steve and that was it, Eddie was melting and floating and his heart was about to burst, all of that at once. "Because we're in it together, baby, and I have a few ideas."

Eddie winked at him, shyness be damned. "Is one of those ideas kissing me?"

Steve pulled him closer and grinned, inches from his face. "See, great minds think alike." And then they kissed, wrapped in each other for the first minute, hour, night of their new lives.

Their laughter rang into the night, as quiet and as safe as nights in Hawkins, Indiana could ever be.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #strangerthings #strangerthingsfanfiction #writing prompts #yeah this is what happens when I get ideas

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